Eyes: Scars
by mochiinvasions
Summary: "That my tears were those of the phoenix, that they might heal your scars." Post-Soviet-era Lithuania and Poland try to find healing in each other.


**Title:** Eyes: Scars  
><strong>Author: <strong>AkaYuki2106  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>CharactersPairings:** Lithuania x Poland, Russia is mentioned  
><strong>Summary:<strong> "That my tears were those of the phoenix, that they might heal your scars." Post-Soviet-era Lithuania and Poland try to find healing in each other.  
><strong>Soundtrack:<strong> 'Dreaming Out Loud' by Sally J Johnson, 'I'm A Pirate, You're a Princess by PLAYRADIOPLAY.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Angst, lots of angst, mild nudity. Also my historical research was nearly non-existent here so feel free to correct me if I get this wrong.  
><strong>Info:<strong> Last chapter of 'Eyes'. Also my entry for a contest on dA. I'll be uploading a video for The Union of Lublin so please check my YT (MochiInvasion) on July 1st.

* * *

><p>Waking up, for Lithuania, does not come slowly. Waking up is a sudden, short, sharp thing, a second in between dreams and reality. He cannot allow himself the indulgence of lying in bed so again, one second later the covers are off and he is dressing. It is a habit hard learnt from the early days under Russian rule, when the cold man would wake him from sleep in the cruellest of ways. It is a habit hard learnt to keep his safety and his sanity.<p>

And so, when he wakes suddenly this morning he is surprised to find himself easily drifting off again. It is just the tiniest thing caught in between top and bottom lid that gets his heart beating like a drum and makes him sit up, eyes wide. He does not recognize the room! Memory comes back to him eventually and he remembers that he is not in his house or Russia's but Poland's, and the reason he does not recognize the room immediately, despite having woken up in it many a time, is that he is not sleeping in Poland's room but the little used guest room.

Momentary panic over he sinks back onto the bed and lets relief wash over him. His eyelids slide shut and he falls into a dream. In the dream, he looks around the room he is sleeping in. The room is nondescript, blandly decorated unlike the rest of Poland's vibrant house, unlived in. He rarely has guests over, much less to stay the night, and so the guest room is mainly an accessory to the rest of the house. He wonders why the other would so quietly show him to the guest room when he is normally dragged into the blonde's room without a say in the matter (not that he minds). But he does not question it, choosing instead to linger on the soft feel of Poland's hand in his, how the soft blush spread across his face, how the kiss planted on his cheek was light as a feather, how green eyes filled with longing and reflecting the soft light looked into his for a second before their gaze was extinguished, and ever so feminine lashes cast shadows on soft skin before the other fled.

In the dream he leaves the room, hand lingering on the doorknob as he pulls the door closed, the other marking his passage along the wall, trailing as he looks down the hall he knows so well. To his immediate right is a rarely-used study, where the other supposedly works. Continuing down the hall is the largest room, Poland's own, the base of so many of their memories. He lingers at the doorway, pushes it open a fraction of an inch before sliding inside, door softly swinging shut behind him. Gold curtains cover wide windows, shut against the sunlight that still worms its way in, catching softly glittering dust motes. The room is messy as always, clothes thrown on the floor, papers stacked precariously, and the bed is the worst of all, looking as if it had never been made. Something catches his eye and he bends to pick it up. It is a picture of him, laughing at one of Poland's antics, eyes shut but smile wide with joy. His face twitches with a small smile at the memory, sharper than ever to him in this moment. Pinned to the photo is a piece of paper with "Kocham cię" written many times over, with "Aš tave myliu" written with it. He feels a smile crawl across his face and he does not hide it, emotion has no business being hidden here. The pen dropped on the floor nearby tells him this was a recent scribbling and he rises quickly and leaves quietly, creeping downstairs softly. In front of him sits the wide living room, a mess like the other rooms, but a loved mess. Two hallways lead off either side of it, to his left lie the bathroom and a utility room, more used to store what the brunette has cleared from other rooms than anything else, and at its end his front door. To his right sit the kitchen and opposite it a dining room, and at the end of the hallway a door leads to the small garden. He knows the house so well and yet it surprises him, that after all these years he should be able to navigate it easily.

In the dream he walks slowly to the right, where the sound of Poland's voice leads him to the dining room. From the long silences and quick words he concludes Poland is on the phone, rapidly speaking Polish in that strange accent of his, switching to Lithuanian often, as it becomes obvious that he is talking to two people. From the tone and speed of his voice he can tell that the blonde is angry and he imagines the other pacing around the room, eyes alight with anger and hand rapidly jabbing the air. He hears his name mentioned more than once, and the door flies open and with a dash of Polish so rapid even he cannot decipher it, the green eyed man hangs up irately. He quickly enters the kitchen, and the door slams shut. He can hear beeping and the sound of cutlery. The door opens and in the dream he turns, without knowing why, and runs back to the stairs, fleeing up them, footsteps soft as snow falling. He flies down the hallway, rapidly entering his room and shutting the door, heart racing and yet he is still quiet. And yet his eyelids often slowly, heart beating at its normal pace as Poland slowly enters the room.

"Hey," he says softly, smiling a little. "Like, did you sleep well?"

"Very well," he answers, replying with a smile of his own. He nods at the breakfast which sits on the tray in Poland's hands. "This is new," he says, "You wake up before me and you make breakfast?"

"Yeah well, it's been like a while since you've been over," the other says, looking anywhere but his face. He frowns a little but sits up and makes space for Poland to sit down on the bed. Poland walks over and places the tray on his lap, then sits down, eyes downcast. Lithuania looks at the breakfast. "This looks good," he says.

"I tried my hardest," Poland replies. "Gotta, like, treat my guest right." He glances up at Lithuania shyly, as if asking for permission to look at him. Lithuania smiles back at him comfortingly.

"Go on, like, try it! I hope it tastes okay," Poland says. Lithuania takes a bite and moans slightly in appreciation. "Mm, Feliks this is lovely! I never knew you could cook so well!"

"Yeah, well, guess it's like a hidden talent or something." The blush spreads across his face and he keeps his eyes lowered, shy as always to accept compliments.

"Seriously, this is delicious. Thank you."

The other shakes his head and watches as Lithuania continues to eat, savouring each bite. "Here, try some," he says.

Poland answers with a quick shake of the head and says, "No, ah, I like, ate downstairs already."

Lithuania quickly finishes the food and pushes the tray to one side. Then he takes one of Poland's hands in his own and with the other cups his cheek. "Feliks, what is it? What's wrong?" He knows he has a tendency to worry needlessly but this time he knows that something is wrong, that Poland has something on his mind that he is hiding.

"Nothing! Nothing's, like, wrong," the other says, just a little too quickly to be believed. Green eyes flicker up to his emerald ones, willing him to let it go, to leave it be. Normally he would give in to the other's desires without a fuss but this time he is determined to find the problem. They have been apart too long to allow a simple answer to get in the way of their re-union, informal as it may be. So he catches Poland's jade eyes and says "Feliks. Tell me."

Poland puts one hand over the one that covers his own and looks away. His mouth opens and slowly words begin to tumble out. "It's just that…I, like, saw you in the bath…Last night…your back, it was, like…" he voice catches and he snaps his mouth shut.

Lithuania continues to look at him until he finds his voice. "So you found out." His voice is quiet, unemotional and it scares even him. Poland looks up at him in desperation. "Don't like, be mad, please. I just, like, wanted to surprise you. But then I saw and…" he looks away again.

Lithuania nods. "So that's why you put me here."

"Yeah. I like, didn't know if you'd be comfortable, with me all over you. I was scared you wouldn't want to sleep next to me." His eyes sink to their hands again. Lithuania can see tiny droplets threatening to fall from his eyelids.

"Feliks," he begins, but the other cuts him off.

"Who…" Lithuania knows he knows the answer, that he just needs confirmation, a source for the anger that wells up along with his tears and he knows the risk but he answers anyway. It is a direction for his own anger, his own suffering, a reminder that there is a price to be paid.

"Russia." he says. He cannot bring himself to utter his human name, to rationalise the monster who caused his back to bleed and his heart to cry. The man does not deserve that humanity.

"Tego drania," Poland hisses and Lithuania can see his fist clench in his lap.

"Feliks, stop, please calm down. We're hurt, you and me both, and we're still recovering. There will be a time, I promise, but not now. Please don't get yourself hurt for me."

"I know," Poland says, "I'm just, like, overreacting." He looks up at him. "Can…can I see?"

Lithuania is silent for a while. The scars of dominion are his to bear alone, and he does not wish to burden Poland with the sight of them. But…he needs this. Poland needs this. Acceptance is the first step to recovering and Poland has revealed his secret, so he should too. Besides with those green eyes looking up at him, sad and slightly afraid, how can he say no?

He nods his head once, jerkily, and Poland reaches up to his shirt, hands shaking. Slowly one button after the other is undone, until Poland's hands are resting against his bare chest. Breathe catching in his throat, he reaches up and slowly pushes the shirt down off his shoulders. It gathers at his wrists and he quietly slips it off, placing it to the side.

Biting his lip, Poland looks up at him, and he slowly twists his body around. Poland reaches up to brush fingertips across the ridges on his back, and he lowers his head, biting his lips and screwing his eyes shut. Poland accidentally catches a particularly fresh (painful?) injury and he can feel the other freeze at his sudden gasp. The hands flutter across his back and are then withdrawn for a second. He raises his head to turn back and look at Poland but before he can arms are flung about his neck, a head is buried in his shoulder, a voice is whispering in his ear and he can feel satin soft tears slip onto his skin. "I'm sorry, I'm so, like sorry." The words are repeated again and again, soft against his skin. His heart aches and he cannot say anything so he places on hand on the two that clasp each other in front of his chest and biting his lip against the pain he leans back against the warm body pressed against his back. "Why…why did you never say anything?"

He leans his head back and wills his eyes not to well up. "How could I? You had problems yourself, the war and then Russia was-"

"I know," Poland says, and his next breath is a sob. "I, like, know that already. But you…you should have told me."

"How," Lithuania says and he can feel the remains of their relationship, fractured like so many shattered glass hearts around their bodies. "How, when you never listen-"

"I know!" Poland says, more aggressively. "All that time you were, like, trying to tell me something and I totally didn't understand, but I understand now. Isn't now enough?"

Lithuania pulls his arms apart and turns his body around again, dropping Poland's hands in favour of hold his face in between his palms.

"Feliks," he begins but Poland cuts him off. "I'm sorry Toris. I'm so sorry. I should have listened. I totally should have like, tried to help you and I didn't and now I just wish that I could help you but I don't like known what to do." Lithuania flings his arms about the other man and holds him tight, inhaling his scent and closing his eyes against his own tears.

"Now is enough," he says.

Poland is silent for a while, and his sobs decrease in frequency as he wraps his arms around the other again. When he is breathing regularly again he whispers "I just, like, wish I really was a phoenix." Lithuania is silent. "Because then I could like, heal your wounds…heal all of them."

Lithuania holds Poland a little tighter and thinks of shattered glass hearts and fractured relationships and phoenix tears that heal scars and wounds and mend hearts.

He pulls out of the embrace to kiss away the tears from Poland's cheeks and looks into his eyes. They shine back at him, glassy with tears unshed but just as bright as before, filled with fear but also love. Scared…to love.

"Are you still scared?" he asks.

"No," the other replies and rests his forehead against Lithuania's. "Tonight, would you like to sleep in my room?"

"I would," Lithuania replies and Poland's eyes look back at his with joy.

* * *

><p>[Translations:<br>Kocham cię=I love you  
>Aš tave myliu=I love you<br>Tego drania=That bastard]

[Note: In ancient mythologies phoenix tears do not have healing powers. However I like the idea, so I used it here.]

So here we are, finally, at the end of this strange, seven part story. Thank you to anyone who's read all, some, or even just one of these. If you check my profile you may notice that I haven't yet written for all the Hetalia pairings I support and I won't be in this series, as it was only ever intended to have the seven couples I wrote for. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed them, and I apologize for putting my other fics on hold to finish them. As I said I will be returning to them shortly.

I was rather stuck on this one. I had a basic idea of what I wanted to happen but much less than with my other stories. Most of this was written on the spot, with the dream sequence being the only pre-planned part. In case you're wondering, yes, everything described in that sequence is true in terms of the story. It was more like a projection than a dream if that makes sense.

I think that covers everything so thanks Dem for the beta as always, you win at life. And don't forget: questions, comments, critiques or suggestions – leave a review as you go!


End file.
